


A Song By Screamin' Jay Hawkins

by orphan_account



Category: Olympics RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: Fuck Or Die, M/M, Magic Made Them Do It, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sex Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 16:20:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1654808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We all know that after the London Games, Michael jetted off to the Maldives with some of his bros. This is my idea of what could've happened towards the end of that trip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Song By Screamin' Jay Hawkins

* * *

“I’m serious about this,” Michael says resolutely. “I’m being one hundred percent real here. You’re the last person I’d be asking for help. You can trust me on that.”

It’s been a tense twenty minutes since Michael showed up on Tyler’s doorstep at three in the fucking morning looking like he already had one size fourteen foot in the grave. Michael had pushed past the younger swimmer and into his apartment, leaning against the nearest wall not because he was trying to look stoic but because he could barely support his own weight.

Tyler raises an eyebrow, asks, “Exactly why do you need my help? Specifically, I mean.”

Michael sighs, turns his back to the wall and bangs his head against it a few times before taking in a deep breath and saying, “Because I’m an idiot who went off to a foreign country and got cursed by a village shaman due to the fact that I didn’t realize I was breaking some obscure custom and therefore insulting him and his illustrious tribe.”

“So basically what you’re saying is that you were being your usual asshole self and some magic man didn’t like it so he blasted you with an ancient Maldivian sex curse and now you need me- your worst enemy- to fuck you so the curse will lift and you won’t die?” Tyler clarifies.

“Yes,” Michael answers through clenched teeth as a wave of nausea sweeps over him. “That’s what I’m saying. And it has to happen in the next-” Michael checks his watch “- thirty four minutes. I originally had two days but flying back to civilization from a remote tropical island is kind of a time suck.”

Tyler bursts into a sort of villainous laughter, all cackling and devilish glee. “I’m going to enjoy this,” he smirks. “I’m going to enjoy every single fucking second of this.”

Michael means to reply with “Can you just hurry up?” but all he gets out before the floor starts inexplicably rushing toward his face is “Can you ju....”

Then everything goes black.

\--

Michael didn’t know it was possible to wake up mid-orgasm. Now he does. And he’s likely to never forget. He feels his back arch into an impossible angle as his muscles seize up and ropes of white hot come shoot out of his cock like bullets out of an AK-47. His eyes open only long enough to roll back in his head and his hips buck up into the sensation of it all, rolling fluidly, as if he were doing a dolphin kick. In some far away part of his brain he registers that they never even made it to Tyler’s bedroom due to his little Scarlet O’Hara stunt; instead the life saving sex act had to happen on the tiled floor of the foyer. It’s a strange thought to Michael, reminds him of that 90’s anti-drug commercial with the egg and the frying pan.

_This is your body._

_This is your body getting fucked by the one person in the world you despise more than anything._

_This is your body coming so hard from said fucking that you’re practically going into seizures._

_Any questions?_

When Michael finally regains the majority of his motor functions he opens his eyes, then startles violently when he catches Tyler staring at him. Tyler looks like his same old douchebag self but something about what they just did makes Michael see a sort of buzzing blue aura around the younger swimmer… for about six seconds. Tyler starts yapping his goddamned mouth and the afterglow is all shot to Hell. “If you want the standard post coital cigarette you’ll have to have it on the porch,” Tyler says, picking up a pair of cargo pants that Michael is pretty sure belong to him and wiping the congealing mess of the older swimmer’s body fluids off of his stomach and thighs. “I don’t let anyone smoke in the house.”

“I’m a professional athlete,” Michael snaps. “I don’t smoke.”

“Maybe not tobacco,” Tyler smirks, tosses Michael back his pants. “You’re best friends with Ryan Lochte for Christ’s sake. You don’t even have to toke up around that dude. Being within four feet of him at any given moment and you get an instant contact high… and that includes when he’s sleeping.”

“Can you please just shut up and help me find my underwear,” Michael growls. “I swear, if I killed you they’d throw me a parade just for getting rid of your annoying ass.”

“Considering the fact that I quite literally just saved your ass I’m pretty sure you don’t have a foot to stand on in this argument.” Tyler reaches under the small table next to the door and pulls out the aforementioned piece of clothing which he then flings at Michael’s head by the elastic waistband. “I think I deserve at least a ‘thank you’. Or perhaps a nice fruit basket.”

“You’re a fucking basket case,” Michael snarks as he stands up, knees wobbly just like after every other orgasm he’s ever had in his life. “That’s the only kind of basket there will ever be as far as you’re concerned.” Michael gets dressed, briefly wondering how he ended up naked from the waist down except for his shoes. He’s never even heard of someone with feet as big as his that could take their pants off but not their shoes. In the end he just writes it off as one of the many mysterious and deviant things Tyler Clary is capable of.

“So I guess this is goodbye until the next life threatening curse comes along?” Tyler asks with a calculated smirk once Michael is dressed and heading for the door.

“Eat shit,” Michael swears at him from halfway down the driveway before climbing into his rental car, starting the engine and rushing off into the night.


End file.
